Pen name: becks. she/her just here for fun. AO3: becks_writes minors, do not interact, please. 18+ only. I follow back as @becks-writes 28. avatar is faceclaim for our Bee
Just a few housekeeping notes to keep in mind for my content:
this blog is not for minors. 18+ only, please.
blank blogs will be blocked
there are lots of anti-grace sentiments expressed on this blog. if that's not your vibe, please don't read things tagged #anti grace shelby or #anti grace burgess. I will tag those posts accordingly.
i enjoy writing tommy in a way that's not canon. yes, he's a ruthless bastard but he's also irrevocably in love with his lady.
reblogs are always appreciated :)
please heed warnings on the posts, as sensitive topics are covered in some of the stories.
have fun & be respectful :)
I have started cross-posting my work on AO3 as becks_writes.
a/n: an au to an au lol an alternate timeline for the senator shelby timeline. warnings: language, death, funerals...
"Tommy," someone called out to him. They sounded like a voice calling to someone who was underwater.
Was he underwater? Was he drowning?
"Thomas!" the voice called, sharper.
He was frozen, eyes unblinking, heart slamming in his chest. He turned towards the voice, head on a swivel.
Polly walked apprehensively towards him, reaching a hand out to steady him. He felt himself get wobbly, his stomach churning. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Polly must've seen his face turn, ushering him to the corner of the room, where he threw up in the trashcan.
Polly rubbed his back as violent sobs tore from his chest. He sunk to his knees on the carpet of the funeral home, forehead resting against the old wallpapered wall.
"Oh, Tommy," Polly sunk to her knees next to him, holding his shoulders as sobs racked his body. "She didn't suffer, they said," Polly offered, trying to bring her nephew some semblance of comfort.
"Doesn't matter, Pol. She's gone," Tommy managed, hiccuping in-between breaths.
"Come on, love," Polly guided him to standing. "Try to calm down. The girls need you. Charlie needs you."
Tommy's heart shattered in his chest, thinking of his two little girls. Now with no mother.
"How can I ever look at them again, Pol? They have her eyes, they-" he sat down in a folding chair, elbows on his knees as he pressed his palms into his eyes, another sob escaping his lips. "I'm shit at everything without her, I-"
Tears ran down Polly's face. "Thomas," Polly rubbed his back again, sitting down next to him. "You'll be just fine. You just have to get through today. Then we can look towards the future."
Tommy looked towards the front of the room, the casket looming, a presence of its own. Spreads of flowers banked either side of it, a large arrangement of white peonies and hydrangeas draped over the bottom half of the casket. The room suddenly felt very hot.
Tommy shook his head. "There's not a future with me in it where she isn't here, Pol," Tommy stood up, loosening his tie, pacing. Polly watched him apprehensively. "I was supposed to go first. I was supposed to die. It's what we agreed on," he laughed incredulously. "How could she do this? How could she leave me, Pol?"
"Tommy-"
"She fucking left, Pol. Just like all you fuckers said she would. Didn't think it'd be this way though, did you?" Tommy's jaw clenched. His teeth ached.
"Thomas, it's not like she wanted to go."
Tommy threw up his hands. "Maybe she did. Maybe I am as insufferable as you all say I am. The cops still haven't said what the fuck happened."
Polly sighed. "Thomas, if anything was true in this world, it was that girl was crazy about you. She loved you and those babies more than life."
Its soft cotton. Flowy. The back is scooped and when bee lays on her side, her cleavage is visible and Tommy’s mouth waters.
He woke up this morning and the hem of her nightgown rode up her thighs in the night, her bare legs and the curve of her ass is on display atop the covers - she always get so hot at night.
Tommy shuffles closer to her in the bed, drawn to her like moth to flame.
She stirs as his hand gently rubs the back of her thigh, moving up to gently ghost over her ass. He kisses the back of her neck.
“Hi, honey,” he whispers, hardening against her. “Y’look so pretty,” he smiles against her soft, warm, sleepy skin.
She lets out a little sigh, arching into him. The sunlight is trying to peek through the curtains. She turns onto her other side, burying her face in Tommy’s bare chest, breathing him in. She presses a sleepy kiss to the patch of chest hair between his pecs.
His arms cage in around her and she’s smiling a little sleepy smile, knowing how much soft, simple things turn him needy.
“I need you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She stretches and turns onto her back. Tommy smirks and settles between her legs, face level with her hips. He pushes up the hem of her nightgown even further as her hips wriggle against him already.
He kisses and licks her thighs as he guides them open wider with his hands. His eyes are blown wide with desire. “You always taste so sweet,” he nearly growls, grinding his own hips into the mattress.
They didn’t leave the bed for a very, very long time this morning.
I think it’s beautiful when what you loved doing when you were 6 finds you again when you’re in your 20s or 30s or 40s or 50s or 60s or 70s or 80s or 90s or
“You know they start to wonder when more than just the first wife dies, Thomas,” Esme whispered, coming up behind Tommy at the funeral home.
The body was in the casket. She looked beautiful. Ethereal. Her diamonds glimmered in the lights and her hair was done exactly how she would’ve wanted it. She wore her favorite green dress.
Tommy’s mouth went dry.
“People are starting to talk,” Esme continued. “Something about how you curse everyone you touch.”
Tommy’s eyes blurred with tears. He inhaled sharply, shoving the emotions down farther in his chest.
He reached out and touched his beloveds cold hands as Esme walked away. “I’m starting to believe that, my love.”
“You know they start to wonder when more than just the first wife dies, Thomas,” Esme whispered, coming up behind Tommy at the funeral home.
The body was in the casket. She looked beautiful. Ethereal. Her diamonds glimmered in the lights and her hair was done exactly how she would’ve wanted it. She wore her favorite green dress.
Tommy’s mouth went dry.
“People are starting to talk,” Esme continued. “Something about how you curse everyone you touch.”
Tommy’s eyes blurred with tears. He inhaled sharply, shoving the emotions down farther in his chest.
He reached out and touched his beloveds cold hands as Esme walked away. “I’m starting to believe that, my love.”
